Behind the Mirror

Jack Bauer, David, Daniel Schreber, Ben Carson, Nelson Wright, Buster McHenry, The Caller, John "Free" Buckner, Athos, Brooks and Bob Wolverton are property of their respective creators and studios, and I make no money from this crack. Um, apologies to Kiefer Sutherland. (Hey, this means you're awesome - just ask Eli Roth!)

Authors Notes: Yay, Nanowrimo win! Big thank you to all those who helped and encouraged me on LJ during the writing of this, which ended up much more complicated and with a whole lot more porn than I originally intended when I first started the WTF 27 writing challenge. Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben Carson

The first time I saw one of them, one of us, there wasn't anything special about it. I was waiting to cross the street - something that was far more perilous now that the drivers couldn't see me - and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a motorcycle sidecar with a department store mannequin inside of it stop in front of the crosswalk. The really strange thing, though, was that when I looked up at the rider of the motorcycle, I saw my reflection for the first time in months.

Reflection wasn't completely accurate, though it was the first thing I thought. The boy riding the bike was no more than that - just a boy, hardly old enough to shave, staring at me with wide blue eyes and an innocence to him that I hadn't seen in a very long time. But he was, without a doubt, me. And more than that, from the stare of amazement he gave me - he could see me.

"Hey - " I started toward him, and the amazement in his blue eyes turned to sudden panic. Before I could stop him, he'd taken off on the bike, down the street and out of sight.

I saw the next one a few hours later, just after sunset, though I almost overlooked him. Just a figure with a strange, limping gait on the opposite side of the street. In fact, his clothes drew my attention before anything else - a smartly cut suit that was probably about fifty years out date, paired with a fedora, a long coat and an old fashioned doctor's bag. As soon as I realized what I was seeing, I sprinted across the street toward him, ignoring the traffic this time. "Hey - hey!"

There was no response. I caught up to him easily, catching his shoulder, and he started significantly as I did. A sudden flash of fear crossed his features, but then he relaxed, head tilting slightly as he regarded me.

I held tight to his arm, to the simple human contact I hadn't had in so long. "You can see me, right? You can hear me?"

Blue eyes behind wire rimmed glasses looked me over carefully, one eyelid scarred and mutilated. "Certainly. You seem to look -- rather like me."

I stared at him, torn between relief at finally having someone to talk to, and incredulous disbelief at how calm he seemed to be about this all. "You don't think that's strange?"

"Strange, yes. But I have seen -- far stranger things, if you can -- believe it. For now, I am glad to simply -- have some company." He offered his hand. "Doctor Daniel Schreber."

I hesitated for a moment, then took the offered hand. "Ben Carson." There was something about him that somehow made me like him immediately, made me trust him, regardless of his limp, or his strange pattern of speech, which sounded a little like he was perpetually out of breath. Perhaps it was just the relief of finally finding another person in this nightmarish world. "Please call me Ben."

He smiled a little wistfully, and nodded. "Then you must -- call me Daniel. How did you get here, Ben?"

I hesitated, trying to decide how to explain it without seeming like a complete lunatic. But what was normal about this place to begin with? "The demons were haunting my family," I said finally, deciding to trust him entirely. "I took a job as a night watchman in a derelict department store that housed mirrors that had been used for psychiatric experiments, but they became portals, to let -them- through. I managed to give them what they wanted, and to kill them, I hope, but... there was an explosion, and when I woke up, I was on the other side."

He listened silently, and I got the impression that he was taking in the information without judgement, storing it carefully. "The other side?"

"Of the mirrors. That's why everything is reversed." I motioned toward the store sign beside it, and he looked toward it curiously, contemplating it.

"Ben..." he said slowly, "Do you mind to tell me -- what the time is?"

I glanced at my wristwatch, still not quite used to reading it backwards. "almost ten."

"Ten AM, or PM?"

I quirked an eyebrow at the strange question. "PM, of course...."

Daniel looked a little pale. "What time does the sun -- set, here?" he asked, voice low with a slight note of panic.

I shrugged. "Around 9. Are you all right...?"

"Yes, yes... but tell me Ben, do you... remember seeing daylight, today?"

"Of course, I've been out most of the day. Is something wrong...?"

He sighed, lost to his thoughts for a few moments, then shook his head slowly. "I think that perhaps our -- mirror world -- is different. For myself, it is once again -- always nighttime." He looked so glum at this proclamation that I couldn't help but feel for him, regardless of how strange this all was.

I let a hand rest on his arm. "Do you have someplace to stay?"

A slight shake of the head. "No, I am afraid I am -- entirely unfamiliar with this -- city."

"Come with me, then. I'll put you up."

He smiled then, a little crooked, and I wondered momentarily about the source the thin white lines that graced the right side of his face, the mangled eyelid. But somehow I couldn't bring myself to distrust him, regardless of his appearance. "Thank you, Ben."

~~~~~~~~~~


There was a high class hotel, I explained to him while walking, 80% complete, that had entered chapter 11 three months ago. It was just what I'd been looking for and a complete relief. I'd found was hard to keep the same bed night after night in a city where no-one could see you. You always ran the risk of waking up next to someone strange, without them really realizing it. Or, in one rather embarrassing situation I'd encountered, waking up to people having sex next to you. Here, the hotel was partly furnished, but unused, stuck in a transitional phase between birth and life while the company tried to sort out finances. I hoped it would take them a while. It was starting to almost feel like home.

"There's a buffet nearby," I told him, "Open all night. One of the ones where you take the tray and pick out what you want. That seems to be the easiest way to get food."

"And no one else notices -- that it's gone?" He asked curiously.

I shook my head, taking him inside as we reached it. "I'll show you how it works. Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

The girl at the counter took no notice of us, not that I'd expected her to. I grabbed a tray and a plate, helping myself to a few of the menu items. He followed, just watching, then finally took a plate himself. "The food is still there."

"After we take it? Yeah. Like we're just eating its reflection, or something."

"An interesting observation," Daniel mused, following me to sit down. "What happens when we -- finish with it?"

"The leftovers? They kind of disappear, eventually. Once we stop paying attention to them, I think."

This explanation was apparently acceptable, and he nodded, setting to eating with relative silence. Silence suited me fine, and I found himself rather liking the man. At some point we spoke briefly about the mystery of our similar appearance, and I told him about the boy I'd seen on the bike this afternoon, but we didn't come to any hard conclusions about anything.

"It seems," Daniel said simply, "That all the rules in this place -- wherever we are -- may no longer apply. We should be prepared -- for that." He finished his food, and disappeared for a moment, his bag left at the table, returning a few moments later with a cup of coffee that he placed in front of me, tea for himself. I looked up in surprise. "Oh, thank you. How did you know?"

"You seem like a -- coffee person," he remarked with a smile, adding milk to his tea. "If I am not mistaken, Ben, you are -- an officer of the law?"

I smiled at the observation, the action feeling strangely foreign after so long alone. "I was, yes. Very intuitive of you, which makes me think that you're not just a medical doctor. What do you do?"

Daniel looked amused at the question. "I am a -- psychiatrist."

We left the restaurant, heading for the hotel, around the back to a service entrance where we could enter without difficulty. It was locked, as always, but it was easy enough to pick, and I'd gotten used to doing it daily, for no matter what state I left the door in, it was always closed and locked when I returned to it.

Today, however, it stood open, and I froze. "Someone's here."

Daniel turned immediately, back to mine, eyes searching the darkness. "Another one like us?"

"That's an interesting observation." I turned quickly at the sound of the voice, instinctively reaching for a holstered gun that had not been on my belt in quite some time.

"Who's there?"

A shock of white hair was what I saw first, carefully styled into what I thought at first was a fauxhawk, but as he moved closer I realized it was a very trendy mullet, which reminded me of being a young adult in the 80's. When he moved into the light cast by the streetlight from the road, I realized that he could very well have been me in the 80's, had I been a young tough with an earring and a smattering of facial hair. His eyes were strangely much lighter than mine or Daniel's, though, even in the streetlight, which was a little mesmerizing. I gave my head a little shake and tried to keep my wits about you. "Who are you?" I asked again, and he stopped in the light, watching us with a smirk, thumbs in his pockets.

"You can call me David."

Daniel stepped forward first, offering a hand, which the youth shook. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Daniel, this is Ben. How long have you -- been here?"

He shrugged. "Couple of days. Saw this guy leaving this morning and decided to check the place out, then wait around to see if you came back. Either of you know what the hell is going on here?"

"Not sure yet," I replied, before Daniel could say anything. "I know there's at least one more... at least another guy that looks like us, I saw him earlier on a bike with a manikin in the sidecar, but he rode off before I could talk to him."

"Hm." The youth pondered this. "I could probably find him. You two staying here?"

I nodded, watching the white haired boy, still not entirely certain how I felt about his appearance, "For now. The entire third floor is furnished, I think for show. The water works, and there is power and heat. And the electronic swipe card locks don't seem to be live, so you can get in and out quite easily. I took the only suite on that floor, but there's empty rooms around it. You're both welcome to spend the night, if you need a place."

Daniel gave a little nod, but the one called David shrugged. "You guys go ahead, I'm a night owl myself, going to go explore the city a bit." He smirked. "I'll let you know if I find anyone else. I take it here is a good place to meet up?"

I nodded, relieved. "You're welcome to break in whenever you like."

He grinned, and was gone in a few steps, which I watched until the shock of white-blonde hair disappeared into the darkness. A few moments later he reappeared with the roar of the motorbike he now sat on, turning out onto the street and disappearing, the wind from his speed whipping at his hair and leather jacket. I frowned. "There's something about him...."

"Yes," Daniel agreed, watching as well. "Like he could be -- a little dangerous. But I do not sense any -- malicious intent from him... just a great deal of -- curiosity."

I nodded slowly. "Just watch yourself around him." I inclined my head toward the lobby. "Come with me, the elevators are this way."

He looked a little surprised. "There is electricity -- to them as well?"

"To some things, thankfully. The first three floors have complete power, but I have to go into the back room to turn on the lights for the first floor, and they turn themselves off whenever I leave. Above the third floor it seems to be mostly emergency power and lighting." I hit the door to the elevator, light spilling out as it opened, following him inside.

He watched me quietly for a moment. "Ben... you say you are -- staying in a suite?"

I nodded. "Yeah? It's handy, has it's own kitchenette, almost feels like an apartment."

"Would it..." he hesitated. "Would it be an inconvenience if I -- slept on your couch tonight? I..." he gave a soft laugh, looking down. "Part of me thinks that if I -- am alone again, you will -- disappear."

I felt myself smile, and it seemed a bit more natural. "Sure. Or my room has two queens, if you don't mind snoring, you can take the other."

I saw surprise, and then an answering smile, and he followed me out of the elevator. "I would -- like that. Thank you."

~~~~~~~
I woke the next morning to voices arguing in the next room. Daniel was already awake, hunting for his glasses on the bedside table, and looked over at me, a little disoriented. "Ben...?"

"I'll check it out," I mumbled sleepily, yanking my jeans on and stumbling to the door without bothering with a shirt. "What the hell is going on here?"

The punk was back - David, I remembered, with three other men, all more variations of me, who all fell silent when I opened the door. One put me in mind of a younger version of Daniel sans scars, and the second sported an impressive mustache. The third, however...

If I'd thought Daniel looked like me, it was nothing on him. It was like looking into a mirror - his hair, the set of his jaw, the way he stiffened and looked at me, the way his fingers tightened around the pistol in his hand as he spoke. "Look. I just want to know what the hell is going on here, and why the hell we all look the same."

"The same, to a degree," Daniel said softly, appearing fully dressed behind me , and then man's eyes flicked to him. "And I am not certain that any of us -- have the answers."

I ran my fingers through my hair with a soft groan, and turned back for the bedroom. Two mirrors were strange enough, let alone five....

"Where do you think you're going?" Came the voice behind me, but I didn't stop.

"I'm going to put a shirt on, and then I'm going outside to bring back coffee and breakfast. Then we can sit down like civilized people and figure this thing out."

Coffee seemed to help quite a bit, as did the large box of various pastries I'd swiped from the buffet. The guy with the mustache stared at me when I came back. "You just swiped the whole pot?"

I shrugged. "I've been in this place for almost six months. Trust me, none of the people around us will ever notice anything that you do. Everything stays the same in their little world."

"Six months?" The one who looked like me gave me a hard look. "Tell us what you know."

I set the food down on the coffee table and sat, taking one of the mugs Daniel had brought out of the bedroom and pouring myself one. "Sit down and have something to eat, and I'll talk, as long as you all will too."

Daniel took the spot beside me with a mug of tea steeping, considering the food before taking a muffin. "I think that might be the best -- plan of action."

I laid out my story briefly and bluntly - an ex cop working as an overnight security guard at a burnt out department store downtown. Finding that the mirrors in the place were possessed, and killing people. Finding the old woman who had inadvertently caused the possession. Her sacrifice, and the explosion that seemed to kill the demons. "And when I got out of the building, I was in the mirror world. Everything I see now is backwards. And I have no reflection."

The kid with the mullet - David - looked over sharply. "I'd wondered about that. I don't have one, either."

I turned to where he'd taken up residence in one of the armchairs. "What happened before you came here?"

He smirked. "A really crazy acid trip. So I don't think I can help you out."

I heard a soft snort from the one who looked like me, who finally poured himself some coffee, perching on the arm of the couch beside me. "Name's Jack Bauer. I work for the government. I was undergoing... experimental treatment for a bio weapon I'd been exposed to. But I came to in a hospital I'd never seen before. Spent yesterday trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and ran into this punk and his bike."

The younger version of Daniel nodded, munching a danish. "Me too. I'm Nelson. David found me last night. I'm a doctor - or will be, soon enough. Anyone mind if I smoke in here?"

"Only if you don't share," replied the guy with the mustache, who introduced himself as Buster McHenry, a beat cop who had no clue what the fuck was going on or how he'd arrived at all.

Daniel had been quiet through this, listening carefully, picking at his muffin. "There was a doomsday device -- in my city," he said softly. "It was set off, but I am -- not sure what happened. I just ended up here."

"And you are..." Jack prompted.

"Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber. I am -- an enthusiast of the human mind."

"You're a shrink," McHenry corrected.

Daniel gave a small smile. "If you must call it that, yes."

"Three lawmen, a doctor and a shrink." Jack glanced up over at the boy where he had sprawled sideways in the armchair with his legs hooked over the arm. "What do you do?"

"Do?" David smirked. "Generally, I cause a nuisance and piss off people like you all. Lot more fun than being a cop. But don't worry, I'll behave myself."

Jack leaned back a little, looking over everyone quietly, thinking. It was familiar to me, I'd looked at many a case that way myself. "There's no conclusive similarities between anyone's story. Considering the circumstances, I think we have to assume that whatever is going on has some supernatural or scientific explanation far beyond our scope of understanding."

I nodded, thinking. "The demons had found a way to get out of the mirror, to cross back." I didn't remind them that it involved possessing a little old lady and turning her into a demon herself, or mention that she was likely what put them there in the first place. "So there must be a way for us to as well, if we can find it out. I haven't had much luck on my own, but maybe with some extra heads...."

McHenry finished another pastry. "Okay, so what do we do?"

In the other armchair, the one named Nelson rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. You can't say you actually believe this bullshit."

Jack looked at him sharply. "Do you have a better explanation?"

"Demons and walking through mirrors? I think one of us - probably me - is just having some really fucked up hallucination."

Daniel glanced up at him curiously. "While I admit it is -- human nature to make things -- about yourself, I am not certain that this -- is the case. Or if it is, perhaps you would like -- to share what has caused this -- hallucination for you?"

Nelson flushed slightly, frowning at the question. "Not really, no."

Daniel gave a little nod, as if it was the answer he was expecting. "In my professional opinion, this is not -- a hallucination in anyone's head."

Jack seemed to agree as well. "I think we need to learn more about the city, find out if there's any more of... any more people here that we haven't found yet."

David gave a nod, and stole a cigarette from Nelson's pack on the table, lighting it. "Hey JB, I'll take take care of that. Found the three of you last night, I'm sure I can rustle up a few more if they're here."

"It's Jack," the man replied with a frown, and sipped his coffee. "I managed to access the hospital's computer systems yesterday, so I may be able to do the same with the city. I'm going to scavenge some equipment and set up in one of the rooms here, if you don't mind."

I shrugged. "You're all welcome to stay, all the rooms here on the third floor are fully furnished. This is the only suite, but there's some common areas on the second floor with a half built restaurant. The company's in chapter eleven, I've been here for three months and other than a few weekly security checks, the building is ours."

The mustache - McHenry shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Not much else to do around here anyway."

Nelson took a drag of his cigarette. "Well, I think the only reasonable thing to do in this situation is to have sex."

My train of thought came to a grinding halt, and I looked over at him. "... what?"

I could see he was trying not to smile. "Yeah, you know, the whole narcissism question. 'Would you have sex with yourself if you could.' Well, we could be the first people to actually experience it. Anyone up to it?"

Jack folded his arms across his chest. "Somehow I think sexual explorations aren't really the priority item here."

Nelson glanced over at him and awarded him with a winning smile. "Yes, well, some of us are still in our 20s."

McHenry looked up from the notepad he was making notes on, which seemed to have more strange designs on it than notes. "Speak for yourself, I'm sure as hell not fucking anyone around here. No offense."

"You're not alone there, McHenry," I replied with a soft chuckle.

Daniel looked thoughtful. "I am not sure that I -- would recommend it, Nelson. There is no telling the effect -- something like that might have on the -- human psyche."

Nelson stubbed out his cigarette with a frown. "I can't believe that none of you here want to get laid. Come on. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It's not like I'm asking anyone to take it up the ass or anything."

The Jack snorted, glancing over at him. "I would if it would get you to shut your damn mouth for a minute and let the rest of us think."

Nelson quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Well. Not my first choice, but the whole secret agent thing is pretty hot...."

"I'm not a goddamn secret agent," Jack growled, looking very much like he regretted even making the offer.

"I won't say a thing for the rest of the day."

"You won't say a thing whenever I tell you to shut the hell up," Jack shot back, clearly irritated.

"Deal." He tilted his head toward the door and gave the man an expectant smile.

Jack regarded him for a moment, then gave a brisk nod and left with him.

McHenry stared after them for a few moments. "Well. This is awkward."

We sat in silence for a moment, then Daniel cleared his throat, turning to me. "Ben. You have been here -- six months? Have you ever left the city?"

I shrugged. "I went fishing a couple of weeks ago. Didn't do much to kill the time, though."

"So you are able to -- get out of the city?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

His expression was intent. "Which way did you -- drive?"

"I took the I23, it takes you right out, easy as pie. Why?"

He looked a little relieved, and leaned back against the cushions. "No reason. For a moment I thought perhaps -- we were rats in a maze. Silly of me, really." He gave a soft chuckle, the kind that made me think he hadn't found the request silly at all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack re-enter and perch on the arm of the chair next to me again. I gave him a questioning look.

"He changed his mind," Jack replied, a slight smirk playing about the corners of his mouth, and I had a feeling that wasn't what had happened at all.

"Jack...."

"I didn't hurt him," he replied plainly, picking up his bag and shouldering it. "I'm going to head out, if no one has any objections. I'll let you know if I find out anything."

I nodded, watching him leave, then turned to Daniel. "I have a feeling someone should go look for Nelson. Come with me?"

He looked a little worried, and stood. "Of course."

I looked at the other two. "Make yourself at home, I guess." Then I followed Daniel out into the hall, still not quite sure what to make of everything. I could hear faint yells coming from the end of the hall, and it struck me that my life was probably going to get a whole lot more interesting very fast.

~~~~~~~

We found Nelson easily in a room at the end of the hall, stripped down to his boxers, wrists tied neatly to the headboard. I stayed out of site and sent Daniel in with a small knife to cut him free, somehow knowing that he would do a much better job of minimizing the embarrassment than I would.

Surprisingly, Nelson stayed, though he was very adamant about not laying claim to any of the rooms until he found out where "that asshole" was sleeping. The man in question returned a few hours later with a van full of electronic equipment, some of which I was familiar with from the force, some entirely strange. I started helping him unload and haul things up to the hotel room next to ours, which apparently had the best access to the telephone and internet lines in the building. We discussed the best way to keep the equipment "grounded" in our strange reality, and cut his shirt into thin strips, tying them around things.

On one of the trips back, I heard voices from inside his room, and hesitated outside the door.

"The boy trusted you -- Jack." Daniel, from the strange pattern of speech.

Jack sounded a little irritated. "Then it's his own damn fault."

"I am sorry I... do not understand."

"Daniel. What reason does he have to trust me? Or you, or any of us? Because for some fucked up reason we all look the same?" He gave a laugh, slightly mocking. "Just because we look the same doesn't mean we are. We don't know shit about each other. He'd be wise not to trust anyone, as would you."

There was silence for a few moments, and then a soft sigh. "I am sorry that you -- feel that way. It will not be easy to unravel the mystery -- of this place if we cannot -- trust each other."

More irritation. "Look. I don't want to see anyone around here get hurt any more than you do. But you can't just trust everyone just based on their damn face."

"Perhaps not. Still, it would be an appreciative -- gesture, if you would apologize -- to Nelson. He is still young, and has not -- been hurt by others to the extent -- that you have."

"Don't presume that you know anything about me."

"Sometimes you do not have to know someone -- to understand pain, Jack."

I wanted to listen longer, but the box that I was holding was awkward and beginning to slip, so I let it bang lightly against the wall to announce my presence, taking it inside. Daniel gave me a soft smile, moving away from where he had stood at the desk. "Is there anything that I -- can do to help?"

"We're fine," Jack replied a little testily, but the doctor didn't seem to take offense at his crankiness.

"All right. In that case, I will -- stay out of your way." He smiled to me again and left the room.

~~~~~

David

Two weeks into whatever crazy shit we were all caught in, I was ready to crack. Two weeks without feeding was very, very long time, far too long to live on Chinese food. I couldn't feed on the shadows, the people around us that couldn't even see us in whatever bizarre reality we were all stuck in, and I knew that if I tried to do anything to one of the others that Bauer, who seemed to have become the self-proclaimed sheriff of the place, would find some way to make me regret it for a very, very long time. But my nature still was what it was, and the five of them smelled so goddamn good that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep pretending to be human much longer.

I took to spending more time by myself, stopping in a the half-finished hotel where the others had taken to staying for only a short time before wandering off again. No one seemed to notice or care too much about my absence, which was, argumentatively, how I'd always played it and how I liked it. Except for that on one of these trips, he caught up to me.

I smelled him before I saw him, smelled his sweat and determination and masculinity over the smells of the parkade I stood in, dust and oil and burnt rubber. Jack, my mind identified in an instant, because regardless of their looks, they all had an individual smell. If he'd been afraid, I think I would have lost it, but I'd never smelled fear on Jack Bauer. As it was, I lost control for a moment, felt the blood lust rise, my body shifting from man to hunter in an instant, and I turned, darting lightning fast around the cars, around corner to where he was concealed, catching myself with the dregs of my self control at the last moment, as I came face to face with him, his handgun pointed neatly at my head.

His eyes were narrowed, and I had no doubt that he'd harm me if I didn't control myself perfectly, if I showed any further sign of hostility. I could survive a gunshot wound no problem, but it would take quite a bit of energy to heal, and as hungry as I was, it wasn't energy I had to spare.

If he was surprised by my drastic change in appearance, he didn't show it other than to growl at me. "All right, what are you?"

I drew a shuddering breath, feeling the razor sharp tips of my fangs press against my bottom lip, and smirked to hide my desperation, trying not to tremble with the scent of him. "Isn't that obvious, JB? Vampire. And you can put away the gun... it won't do any good."

He didn't move, though I didn't expect him to, and I saw his eyes flick to my fangs, then back. "Then tell me what you've been doing out here."

I slipped my hands into my pockets, slowly and deliberately, as if it would help keep my from reaching for him. "Trying to keep myself from attacking anyone. Normally I wouldn't give a fuck about humans, but I'm a bit superstitious about killing someone who looks like me."

"I've seen you eat regular food...."

"For fun. Doesn't help this. And I can't bite the shadows. Doesn't work."

He seemed to accept this all without question, and I was impressed with the man's resilience, voice low and calm. "What happens if you don't eat?"

I shuddered despite myself, hands clenching on my thighs, the slight lick of pain helping to keep my mind lucid, fighting through the agony of restraint, of keeping the hunger at bay. "Can't keep myself pretty, I'll look like this more and more, and the human part of me won't be in control anymore."

"You're barely in control now."

"You think?" I laughed, almost a snarl, and stumbled backwards. I could feel the hunger slowly eating away at my defenses. Had to put more distance between us. "You need to get out of here. Now."

"Yeah? Then what happens? You lose your mind, and one of the others gets hurt? Get on your knees."

I complied, though more because of the agony than to be obedient to him. "You can't kill me, Jack. Don't fucking test me. I haven't fed in two weeks."

"Shut up." He kept the gun held on me, eyes not leaving me as he shrugged out of his trench coat, tossing it blindly to sit on the side of the parkade wall. His scent was stronger, then, and I couldn't keep my eyes off his bare skin, his well-muscled arms, the throb of his pulse at his throat. Then he approached, slowly, deliberately, pressing the gun to my temple.

"Jack," I gasped, hands clawing at the concrete, nails digging into the stone. "I'm not fucking around, get the hell out of here."

"Shut up," he said again roughly, and his free hand caught tight in my hair, yanking my head back with a shock of pain that fed my hunger rather than distracting me from it. I groaned, chest heaving, muscles tense and shaking as I desperately clung to restraint.

"Jack - !"

"Feed," he growled, wrist pressing to my lips. "Before you're too far gone to leave me in one piece. And if you can't control yourself, I will blow your brains out. I don't care if it doesn't kill you, it'll still hurt like hell."

My hands were already moving to catch the offered wrist, and it took every inch of my self control not to tear his bloody arm off as my teeth sunk into the skin. I instinctively found the vein, groaning as his blood filled my mouth, rich and hot, gulping greedily, feeling the hunger lessen. It was easier to control myself then, and I forced myself to be human, claws returning to fingers, a safeguard against the hunter taking control again. I much preferred to kill my victims, preferred the rush of their death going through me, the thrill of violence, but I'd done this on occasion, and feeding while human brought its own rush, a very human shudder of arousal that shot straight to my cock.

Jack didn't move, standing patiently, but I knew the effect it would have on him would be just as strong if not stronger. When I groaned against his wrist I heard a soft, answering groan in reply, the gun pulling back from my temple, lowering.

I glanced up at him, pulling back, and licked my lips deliberately before pressing my tongue to the gashes on his wrist, healing them, licking away the blood. Then I smirked, hands on his hips, turning him to press back against the concrete column of the parkade wall. My hands moved quickly, yanking his belt and pants undone, palming his erection through his jeans with my other hand as I did so. Then I looked up at him, giving a wordless smile, quirking an eyebrow to silently offer what I wanted to give him.

He watched me through narrowed eyes, expression not changing, but pressed ever so slightly against my hand. That was enough of a grant of permission for me, so I yanked his pants down, leaning in and taking the head of his cock between my lips.

His fingers curled in my hair, and I heard him draw a wordless gasp, hips rocking into my mouth. This was one of the advantages of doing things human, and my senses were buzzing with pleasure as I took him, letting him thrust into my mouth, fingers tight in my hair. I didn't mind the force, I'd rather anticipated it from someone like him, and groaned around him. My free hand slipped down to stroke myself through my pants as he continued, thrusts punctuated by his sharp, staccato gasps that echoed in the concrete darkness of the parkade.

His other hand moved to my head now, still gripping the gun, the flat of the grip pressed against my hair. I would have laughed about it if I wasn't currently preoccupied with something much nicer, with swallowing his cock, with hearing him groan, with tugging open my jeans to fist my own erection, not caring if he saw. The scent and taste of him was delicious to me, musk and strength and courage, and somewhere hidden underneath, a raw, animalistic need that rivalled the strength of my own desire for blood, and I got the impression that whatever Jack did before he came here, he hadn't been doing this for quite some time.

His fingers were almost painful in my hair, but I fought against his control and deep throated him again, groaning around him, my free hand slipping to cup his sack, feeling him shudder against me. He was still silent apart from his breath, but I could feel his body tense, trembling against me, choking as he bucked hard into my mouth and lost control, climaxing hot and salty. It was almost as nice as blood, almost as fulfilling, and I sucked everything from him, finishing myself off with a few quick strokes that brought my body to sweet climax.

He was panting, pulling back from me to lean heavily against the wall, gun still clutched loosely in his hand as he did up his pants. "Fuck."

I smirked, wiping my hand on the wall and refastening my clothes, standing, stretching. "In a way, yes, we did."

I thought I saw a hint of a smile before he clamped down on it, features hard, serious. "I don't want you to even think about doing that to any of the others."

I grinned. "Why, would you be jealous?"

Blue eyes narrowed. "I mean it."

I gave a little shrug, still smiling, still watching him, running a finger along his jaw. "I'll let you fuck me next time."

"There's not going to be a next time."

"No? I thought you didn't want me going to one of the others. Maybe Ben...."

"David, I said no."

I chuckled softly. "Think about it, Jack. You could do much worse than trading sex for blood. It’s cheaper than a hooker, not that there's any of those around anyway."

He was silent for a moment, and then tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, turning from me. "I'll think about it."

"Jack..." he looked back at my voice, my hesitation. "Bullshit aside... thank you. I really... did need that."

He didn't question whether I was referring to the blood or the sex, and I couldn't read any assumptions in his face. "You're welcome."

"Don't tell anyone."

He snorted, picking up his coat, and started to walk away. "I'm not that stupid, David."

~~~~~~~

Ben Carson

Over the next couple of weeks, we all seemed to settle into a strange kind of co-existence on the third floor of the abandoned hotel. Daniel and I, Jack, Nelson, Buster and that kid David, though he wasn't around much. Jack seemed convinced that combing the city would yield some clues as to why we were all here and how, and I didn't do much to dissuade him. It didn't matter that I'd spent the past 6 months trying to figure out the same thing.

Personally, I was more curious about the fact that so many of us had shown up so quickly, when I'd spent so long alone. I'd gone from having no reflection to five in a matter of days. I wasn't quite sure what to make of everyone, these men who shared my features but not my identity, and found it was difficult to get over that hurdle of strangeness with them. At least, with everyone but Daniel, who still slept in the other queen bed in the room that I'd claimed. A constant reminder that I wasn't alone anymore.

I came back from breakfast one morning, passing Nelson in the suite, who was curled up on the couch with a thick book. Daniel was no where to be found, however, even in the bedroom. As I turned to leave I caught sight of a note on the table, taped to the surface with a small piece of black tape. Curious, I picked it up. The cursive was tidy and exact, and I knew it would be Daniel's before I read the signature on the bottom.

'Ben. I am working on something on the top floor and would like your assistance. Please come meet me when you read this. - D.Schreber '

I wondered what he could be working on on the top floor, and shrugged. Better find out in person, I supposed. I left the note on the table and went back into the sitting room, giving a little wave to Jack as I passed him. "Be back in a bit."

He glanced up from the laptop he'd purloined from who the hell knew where and nodded, then went back to whatever he was doing.

Getting out of the elevator on the top floor, I glanced around. There was no sign of where he might be, and I didn't feel like checking every room. "Daniel? You up here?"

"I am -- down here, at the end of the -- west wing", I heard his breathless voice call back faintly, which was followed by a distant muffled cry, as if he'd hurt himself. A little alarmed now, I started toward the wing indicated at a jog, spotting a rectangle of light at the end of the hall from the open door of the last room.

As I reached the doorway, I froze. He was there all right - bound on his knees and gagged, stripped down to his shorts and undershirt, in the middle of a surprisingly furnished room. "Daniel - what the hell?"

His eyes went wide when he saw me, and shook his head wildly, struggling against the bonds and trying to speak through the gag. I hurried into the room to his side, freezing as I heard a voice behind me, and the click of a gun being cocked. "Don't move."

My hands went up without thinking, and I froze, remembering too late how similar our voices all sounded. I closed my eyes with a soft groan, immediately realizing how stupid I'd been to rush in. In the instant of panic that struck me when I saw him tied up, it was as if all my training had never happened. "Who are you?"

"Don't ask questions," the voice replied, "And don't turn around until you hear the door shut."

"I understand," I replied, and in the reflection of the brass lamp I could make out the figure behind me, wearing a tan trenchcoat not unlike Jack's, but with longer hair slicked back, and a pair of black framed glasses. He backed out of the room, pulling the door behind him, and a moment later I heard something heavy being pushed up against it - probably the cabinet I'd seen at the end of the hallway, then the sound of something falling.

Quickly I went to Daniel and pulled off the gag, then started working at the knots on his wrists and ankles. "You okay? He hurt you?"

"I am -- fine," he replied softly, rubbing his wrists as they came free. "Ben, you need to -- get out of here..."

"Too late for that," I replied with a sigh. "Did he tell you anything? A name? What he wants?"

Daniel shook his head slightly with a soft sigh. "No, nothing of substance. Just that I would be untied after you got here. And called himself a -- motivational speaker, and a psychiatrist -- as well. I do not think he was -- telling the truth." He looked up at me, brows knitting together. "I am truly sorry, Ben. I did not want you -- dragged into this."

I frowned. "Not your fault. We had no idea there was anyone running around with malicious intent."

"I do not think he is -- entirely mentally stable," Daniel said worriedly.

"I agree with you there," I replied, going to try the door. The handle turned, but when I tried to push it open, I met resistance. I frowned, bracing my feet against the carpet and starting to shove. "Help me push this open."

"Ben Carson." I started at the sound of my name, and Daniel pointed wordlessly to a small radio that sat on top of the dresser, then up to a camera that looked like it had been mounted rather hastily on the ceiling.

I straightened, moving back into the middle of the room warily. "Who are you? What do you want from us?"

A soft chuckle. "Who I am doesn't matter. It's who you are, Ben. Can I call you Ben? Stop trying to open the door, Ben."

I felt Daniel's hand on my arm, voice low, tone warning. "Don't pay attention to him. It's all -- mind games."

"I can hear you, Doctor, and that's not a very nice thing to say. Don't try to psychoanalyze me, you can't beat me at my own trade. Now, both of you need to listen to me if you want to get out of this in tact."

Daniel opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to quiet him. "Okay, we're listening. Just let us both go. No one needs to get hurt. Just tell me your name."

"My name isn't important, and no one needs to get hurt if you listen to me and do what I say. It will be very simple."

I felt my jaw clench. "Tell us what you want."

"Don't give him an -- audience," Daniel tried, but the voice on the radio continued.

"Officer Ben Carson and Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber." The voice sounded a little pleased with itself. "I am very aware of who you are and what your backgrounds are. Don't waste time wondering how. I have spent quite a while watching you all run around this little maze we've ended up in. But I am going to give you an opportunity to better yourself."

"He's a fanatic," Daniel whispered. "His fervour is almost -- religious in nature, but I have not been able -- to discern his ideals - "

"Hush, Doctor," the radio snapped. "The soap box is mine now. Now, the two of you seem to have gotten to know each other rather well. I intend only for you to help each other."

Daniel shook his head slowly, straightening his glasses, but said nothing. I watched him closely as I replied. "In what way?"

"First, I need to make you aware of a few things. You are on the top floor of this building. You cannot leave through the windows, or the ventilation ducts. The door is blocked, and if you try to unblock it, you will find yourself very quickly at the end of the barrel of a gun. I don't recommend you try to leave. Secondly, should the task I give you not be initiated within the hour, I will kill one of the others, and it will not be a merciful death. When I run out of them, then I will kill you both."

I felt my blood run cold, and swallowed hard. "I understand. Tell us what you want."

"Quite simply, Ben Carson, I want you to love yourself." There was a soft chuckle, and my eyes narrowed slightly, trying to discern his meaning, the cause of his humor. He continued to speak. "It's a little funny, isn't it. Two men from different backgrounds, even different worlds. But the same face, and the same guilt. Both of you made choices, and dealt with your situations as you needed to. But yet you still blame yourselves, you still carry regret. Guilt. And self hatred."

I was beginning to see what Daniel had meant by fanaticism. "Enough with the lecture. What do you want from us?"

"I already told you, Ben. I want you to love yourself. The both of you must get off, and there must be penetration involved. There are supplies in the top drawer of the table behind you. Do I make myself clear?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Daniel pushed past me to where his clothes sat, shaking out his slacks and stepping into them. I stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"I am leaving this -- room, and I do not intend to be -- shot in my underwear," he said simply, doing up the slacks and fastening his belt.

"I don't think that's wise, Doctor," came the voice from the radio. "I don't think you want me to hurt Ben, do you?"

He froze, slowly placing the shirt in his hand back down, and as he turned toward the radio, it occurred to me that I'd never seen Daniel truly angry before this moment. "You let Ben go. You have no right to -- ask this of a man like him. I will not participate -- in rape."

"Those are strong words, Doctor. I'm not forcing sex on anyone."

"Like hell you aren't." His eyes narrowed. "If you are half as -- learned as you claim, you should be completely aware -- of what this will do to him. You do not instill self-esteem -- in someone by inflicting abuse, or -- PTS!"

"I did not come here to debate psychiatric conditions, doctor, and I will not continue. However, if you really wish a rape, I can arrange that. But it does not accomplish my aims."

"Take me, then. Leave Ben -- out of this."

"That is out of the question, and you have no leverage against me, so I recommend you do as I say. Now, you have fifty minutes left to initiate what I have asked of you. And I can see you, so don't try anything smart."

Daniel sank down onto the edge of the bed wearily, staring blankly down at his hands in his lap. I touched his shoulder gently, keeping my voice low, hoping it was inaudible. "Don't worry, we'll just wait this out. He won't kill the others. And he can't keep us here forever."

"Ben..." The voice from the radio, patronizing. "Don't go planning anything. And speak up, I don't want to have to force anyone to speak more loudly." A little chuckle, and I glared in the direction of the radio.

Under my hand, Daniel shivered. "I'm not sure we -- have much choice, Ben. The others will be caught -- unaware, like I was. Like you were. So..." he hesitated, then drew a soft breath. "I will submit -- to you."

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling a shiver run through me at his words. "I don't want to hurt you."

I felt Daniel's hand cover mine in his shoulder, and looked at me calmly. There was a strength, a perseverance in blue eyes that were normally so calm. "Ben. I have done this -- before. Often. You will not -- hurt me. Do as he says. Sex under coercion does not -- reflect badly on you, or your -- sexuality."

The revelation somehow didn't surprise me, not that much. "Daniel...."

"Please," he whispered, voice softer. "I do not want him -- to hurt you."

"But...."

He stood with a soft sigh, eyes downcast, and stepped toward me, hands coming up to rest lightly on my shoulders. He leaned in to nestle his lips by my ear, and I tensed a little, feeling his breath, warm and moist on my skin, and trying not to react to the shiver that ran down my spine. It had been a very, very long time since even the possibility of sex had shown itself to me, since before the accident that changed my whole life....

Instead of the kiss I half expected, however, I heard his voice, a bare whisper. "Ben. I have the technology to -- undo this. But I can't explain -- now. Too dangerous. Please, trust me. I do not mind if you -- think of someone else."

I paused, and nodded slowly, then looked up toward the camera. "If we do this, you give your word you'll let us go?"

"I swear on my mother's grave," came the reply, sounding pleased.

"Fine," I snapped, and moving swiftly, caught Daniel's face in my hands, caught his lips with mine.

He made a little surprised sound, but relaxed against me quickly, lips parting to my invasion. It was strange, when I was used to the soft curves of Amy's mouth, to kiss the angles that were so similar to mine, to feel the slight scritch of stubble, and to pull slender, firm hips toward me that were trembling just a little under my hands. But at the same time, it was familiar, the taste of his mouth very much like my own apart from a hint of tea, the warmth of his body the same, the way his breath caught as my hands cupped his ass, the same as mine used to when Amy did so to me. I felt an unexpected pulse of desire at the realization, which was followed by another when I found that my hands were already dancing over him, stroking his sides, finding all the places that I loved and teasing them. He was practically melting against me, arms tight around me, one hand tangling in my hair to hold me to seamless kisses, fluid in their ease and grace, that were growing more arousing, more hungry by the moment.

I broke from him finally to catch my breath, drawing back to find him watching me with wide eyes, and it was comforting to know he was as astonished as I was. "That was...."

He gave a little nod without me needing to finish, which was good, because I wasn't quite sure what to say about it. "Certainly." He saw me glance back toward the camera, and I felt his hand move to cup my cheek, turning my face gently back to look at him. "Try not to -- think about it," he said, though from the flush to his skin I wasn't convinced that he wasn't having the same problem.

"It's not easy...."

"I know," he murmured, flushing darker. "I will try to -- distract you." He drew my face to his this time, trembling hands stroking over my shoulders and chest before moving to start to undo the buttons.

"Shh," I murmured softly, more to reassure him than because he'd said something. I felt suddenly very protective of him, and realized that I had felt that way since meeting him, and that made it easier to continue, helping him tug off my shirt, my hands moving to the buttons of his vintage style undershirt.

He drew back quickly, as if stung, one hand at his throat over the buttons, a terror in his eyes that shocked me. "I'm sorry, I -- I can't...."

"Doctor."

The voice from the radio made my lip curl in dislike, and I turned to glare at it, slipping an arm around Daniel's waist protectively without quite registering what I was doing. "It's ok...."

"Take it off," the radio instructed firmly.

"He doesn't have to take it off," I shot back toward it, wishing I could get away with smashing it against the wall.

"Yes you do, Daniel," the voice returned sharply, "Or the deal's off, and I kill Ben. This is part of your therapy." Daniel didn't move for a moment, and the voice repeated itself, louder. "Take it off. Now."

"Fine," I heard him spit, and he pushed past me to stand in front of the camera, fingers yanking the buttons undone. His skin was flushed, and I could see tears in his eyes that he was blinking back furiously. "Bastard! You want to -- see?" The undergarment came off, flung onto the pile of his other clothes, and I drew a sharp breath despite myself. To say his back was heavily scarred was a bit of an understatement, the skin uneven, shades of pink and white scar tissue in thin lines that stood out in harsh relief, crisscrossing over the length of his spine and down into the white cotton shorts. "Where are you? Look at -- me. Take a good look. People like you -- did this. You do not -- help people!"

"Daniel..." I spoke softly, moving to touch his arm, but it jerked from my touch, and before I knew it he'd yanked his pants undone and off, throwing the remainder of his clothes to join the pile. Then he perched in the middle of the bed, arms half wrapped around his knees, glaring at the radio.

"Lets get this -- over with," he muttered, not looking at me.

I watched him silently, then shook my head, finding my shirt and starting to put it back on. "No. I'm going."

His head jerked up to look at me. "Ben -- he'll kill you - "

"I don't care. I won't do this to you."

Daniel looked genuinely miserable, and moved to the edge of the bed quickly to catch my arm. His chest was as bad as his back, or possibly worse, and I felt my heart ache for him, for whatever had been done to him to make him hate his own appearance so much. "Ben, please... I know it must -- disgust you. But I don't want him -- to hurt you."

"It doesn't," I replied softly, cupping his face to hold his gaze to mine. "Not at all."

"Then... come here," he murmured, blue eyes pleading. "Please...."

I sighed, shrugging out of my shirt again and perching next to him, laying a hand gently but very deliberately on his chest, noting with a little curiosity the silver ring that hung on a chain around his neck, but not saying anything. "Tell me what you want me to do, Daniel."

He flushed darkly, glancing away. "Let me -- please you. Let's get out of here."

I nodded, and drew his trembling form to me, pressing my lips to his, slow and warm and gentle. Stroking hands over his back and sides regardless of the rumpled skin, seeking out the spots that I thought would calm him, draw us both back to the budding passion from moments earlier. He relaxed slowly under my touch, shivers lessening, letting me press him back onto the bed under me, letting me kiss his jaw and throat, sucking at his skin and teasing it with my teeth. It was easier, with him relaxed, to let my mind slip into the frame it had been before, the fascination with how alike we were despite his scars, how nipping at his collarbone made him groan, low and throaty, how his hips bucked up into my hand as I wrapped my fingers around his cock, slowly stroking, teasing, pleasuring him as if I was touching myself. It made me surprisingly hard, rocking slowly against his thigh, and before I knew it he'd undone my pants, pushing them down enough to stroke me in return.

"Oh, fuck..." I gasped before I could stop myself, and pressed into his fingers. It was like touching myself with someone else's hand, the movements so perfect and deliberate, knowing exactly what I wanted and how I needed it, milking hard, hot shocks of sensation from me. It made it worse that he was practically writhing under me, his breath coming in little mewling gasps against my mouth as I kissed him with enough force to bruise those well shaped lips. I let myself kiss his throat again, indulging in the warmth of his sweat streaked skin, in the shuddering cry he gave as I bit at the crook of his neck, groaning, my hips thrusting into his fingers slowly despite my efforts not to, but even that he somehow anticipated and worked with it. "Oooh god, Daniel...."

I heard him whimper softly at my words, swallowing hard, his breath coming in soft pants. "Ben... should finish this before -- we're too far gone," he managed to breathe, and I nodded, pulling away and sitting up with great difficulty. I kicked off my pants and blindly opened the drawer in the bedside table, fingers encountering a small bottle of what thankfully turned out to be lube as Daniel curled under me, resting on his knees and forearms and rocking back against my cock with a soft, breathless whimper. I didn't stop, because stopping meant thinking, and it was best not to think at that moment, as I coated myself liberally in the clear liquid, as I started to rock inside him, hearing myself hiss at how goddamn tight he was. Best not to remember that I'd always been curious about this and Amy had never entertained the notion, best to just rock deeper, gasping at the incredible heat and friction, at the way his hips shuddered under my hands, at the way he rocked back against me almost desperately.

His hands were clenched into fists on the sheets, shivering under me, breathless cries of pleasure pulled from his lips with each thrust. He was asking, begging for more, for me to use him harder, and that was even more intoxicating. I curled around him to bury my face in silken blonde hair, to kiss his neck hungrily, slipping a hand to circle his erection, letting the force of my thrusts drive him into my touch. It should have been strange, but somehow it was entirely natural, entirely perfect to grind and gasp and groan as we rocked together in rhythm, everything feeling so much more intense than I ever would have imagined.

I was gasping his name helplessly almost without realizing it, as the pleasure built, sharp and hot with each thrust, and I knew I couldn't last much longer. I pressed my face to his neck, kissing his skin hungrily and nipping at the crook, having to fight to keep my thrusts hard and even and measured, to keep driving the pleasure I felt, the gasping, trembling cries that I pulled from his mouth with each thrust. I tightened my fingers around him and felt him buck back sharply against me with a cry, felt his pleasure burst hot and slick in my hand, felt him clench and shudder in ecstasy around my cock as I thrust hard into him. It was so different, so different from Amy, but at the same time I could almost feel it as if it was my own, and it pulled me over the edge, sensation and pleasure rushing through me uncontrollably as I came hot and deep inside him. "God, Daniel - !"

He was trembling under me, whimpering softly as I tried to catch my breath, and I moved to curl beside him immediately, wiping my hand on the side of the sheet before wrapping my arms around him, pulling him to me. "Did I hurt you?"

He gave a little shake of his head, still trying to regain control. "No, no. It's just -- a little overwhelming. I'm sorry."

"Shh," I murmured softly, stroking his back and pressing his lips to his hair. "No need to apologize. Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm ok," he whispered, but wouldn't meet my eyes. "Let's get dressed and -- get away from here."

I nodded, a little worried, and helped him sit up. "Okay."

"I wouldn't bother getting dressed," came the voice from the radio, startling me a little, and I glared at it.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you're not finished yet. There are still things you both need to learn, Ben."

I felt a knot of anger in my stomach, arms tightening protectively around Daniel without thinking about it. "You gave your word you'd let us go if we did this."

"That's true. I did I swear on my mother's grave. But fortunately, she's not dead yet. And don't try to leave, Ben. I will kill the others."

"You motherfucking - " I went to stand, but froze as a second voice on the radio.

"Freeze! Drop your weapon!" A loud bang shot through the radio, followed by others, the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

"Shit!" I fumbled for my clothes, trying to make out the voices that the gunshots were drowning out. "What the hell are you doing?"

Daniel was dressing quickly as well, watching the radio with wide eyes, fingers trembling a little as he did up the buttons of his shirt. I didn't wait for him, throwing my shoulder against the door. Whatever was blocking the door shook slightly, but didn't budge.

The gunshots suddenly stopped, and I looked back to the radio in alarm. "What are you doing? What's going on?"

"Ben?" A voice, out of breath. "It's Jack. Where the hell are you two?"

I gave a sigh of relief despite myself, but didn't want to make the same mistake twice. "How do I know it's you?"

"You don't, but you're going to have to trust me. Look, whoever this guy is, he got away from me. I don't know if he's running, or if he's coming after you."

I heard a grunt of pain, and stepped toward the radio. "Jack? You okay?"

"I'm fine. I need to get you out of there."

"I think I can unblock the door with Daniel's help."

"No, I can see it on the security camera. He's tipped over the cabinet to wedge the door shut, you won't be able to push it away. Now, according to the building plans, there should be a door to your right, that joins to the next room, but I'm going to assume he's hidden it. Is there an entertainment unit in the room?"

"There is."

"Pull it out of the way. You'll have to pick the lock."

Daniel already had one end of the unit, and I grabbed the other. "Pick it up and pull it out with me, it'll be easier than dragging it along the carpet."

He nodded, lifting with me on three, and I tried to ignore the soft whimper of pain as he lifted, focused on the task at hand. "Grab the radio," I told him, slipping behind the unit to face the door it had been covering. Thankfully the bolt that closed the door wasn't any more difficult to pick than the one to get into the hotel. I cracked the door to scope the room, then opened it farther, very much wishing that I had a gun. "Follow me."

~~~~~~~